


How Not to Fall in Love, by Mercedes Griffin; or, That Time When Mercedes Slept with Casper and Jett Because She Wanted to Stop Being Friends with Them

by jellytea



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Griffin being a douchebag, Guitar Dude's name is Casper, Inspired by a Movie, Jett having a sexual identity crisis, Lucy and Katie being awesome, M/M, Monkey Love (2002) - Freeform, background Jo/Kendall, he loves Dak, long fic, lots of swearing, non explicit sexytimes, pre Camille/Logan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellytea/pseuds/jellytea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. In which Mercedes does her hardest to get out of her rut, a rut that is nearly 100% because of her friendship with the two idiots in her life. That means engineering a plan to sleep with the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Not to Fall in Love, by Mercedes Griffin; or, That Time When Mercedes Slept with Casper and Jett Because She Wanted to Stop Being Friends with Them

**Author's Note:**

> So I am slowly making my way through Jeremy Renner movies, and this one popped up on my radar because 1) Seamus Dever is a total dork in this and 2) there is this gifset (http://neur0tica.tumblr.com/post/25893966346/monkey-love-2002) of the sex scene The Renner has with the main girl and OHMIGOD. Anyway, so as I do, I started thinking of how I could write a BTR AU based off of this, despite the movie being…weird as a whole, except for The Renner being adorable and vulnerable and sarcastic. The main girl is all bitchy and self-involved and reluctantly falls for her best friend, and that led me to my second favorite BTR ship: Mercedes and Guitar Dude. You know you all wanted this.

**THE DILEMMA**

 

“See, what I think,” Jett cleared his throat and wiped at his mouth, “is that men of a certain age should have certain sexual desires on a list and those desires should be fulfilled by the time they turn, like, thirty.”

“What _I_ think is that men named Jett Stetson are complete pigs,” Mercedes snapped. She scowled when Casper snorted and spit out a soggy piece of lettuce in her direction.

“What’s your problem?” Jett whined. “I’m just stating the facts. The more deviant sexual acts a guy gets to experience before he graduates from the bubble land that is college, the more normal he’ll likely be as an adult.”

“Keep going and you’re going to give her an aneurysm,” Casper drawled.

"Maybe that'll keep her panties from twisting," Jett shot back.   




“You do realize I’m right here? Sitting in the same booth as you dickheads?” Mercedes asked. In retaliation, she stole a fry off of Jett’s plate. He let out a wounded “hey!” and slid his plate out of arms length. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“What’s the plan today, girls and boys?” Casper asked, leaning back against the back of the booth and resting his arm along the top of it. “Another rousing night of picking out movies and then bitching about whose turn it is to buy the beer?”

“I actually have grownup plans tonight,” Mercedes said in a bored voice, peering into the handheld mirror she’d taken out of her purse. “So you two can get your bromance on and do whatever you boys do whenever I’m not there.”

“You mean, have fun?” Jett snarked.

“You’re an asshole,” she said and snapped her mirror shut. “I have no idea how you’ve managed to get anyone unfortunate enough to sleep with you.”

“Really?” Jett teased back, gesturing lewdly up and down his body. “It’s all because of my rock hard pecs, m’dear.” Dak, the café’s ridiculously attractive owner, overheard this as he passed by their table with a new pitcher of iced tea and snickered.

Mercedes shuddered. She turned to Casper, in an attempt to completely ignore the idiot blond. “Call me if you need an out with that girl tomorrow. I promise to keep my phone on,” she added, a little whiningly, when he raised an unbelieving eyebrow. She hooked the straps of her purse over her shoulder, drank a large gulp from Jett’s half-empty cup of iced tea, and slid out from the booth. She wiggled her fingers at the two boys as she left, the other hand already punching in a number on her phone.

“Tell the girls to meet me at the juice bar,” she said shortly.

 

 

“What have they done now?” Lucy asked soothingly, turning around and holding out a cup brimming with a bright green concoction, the minute Mercedes drew near.

Mercedes let out a huff and flopped down onto one of the squashy orange couches Lucy, Jo, Camille, and Katie were currently monopolizing, making grabby hands for the proffered plastic cup.

“I need new friends,” she grumbled. She bit at the straw and glared when Camille and Katie burst out into laughter. “I’m serious! They’re immature boys who don’t care about anything that doesn’t pertain to sex, and they’re keeping me from finding a quality boyfriend.”

Camille bumped Mercedes’ shoulder. “Come on, Sadie, you don’t mean that.” She raised her voice a little, choosing to ignore the other girl’s murmur of disagreement. “You’ve been friends with Jett and Casper since, like, you guys were five years old. You can’t just give that up.”

“You’ve put up with them for the past eighteen years,” Jo chimed in. “What’s changed?”

Mercedes took an extra long drink from her straw, trying to buy time. She relented when Katie gave her the eyebrow of doom. “It’s my dad,” she admitted. “Apparently, now that I’m twenty-three years old, I have an image to uphold as both the daughter of a CEO and next in line for VP for Griffin Industries.”

“How are the boys holding you back?” Katie asked quietly.

“They’re – they’re not holding me back, really,” Mercedes stumbled over her words. “It’s just. They’re idiots, the two of them. And I need a husband, to show off to the press, a real man’s man, you know? So I think that if I stop being friends with Jett and Casper, then it’ll force me to, you know, start dating guys for real.”

“But you’ve been friends for the past eighteen years,” Jo repeated, her brow furrowed.

Mercedes let out a huff. “Just because you and Kendall have been happily domesticated since the day you two graduated from high school doesn’t mean that you’re qualified to talk to me about long term relationships.”

“Hey,” Camille said warningly. She had always been the mediator between them, keeping their two completely opposite attitudes at bay, trying to avoid another repeat of the Incident of ‘02. She turned to Mercedes. “Do you really think you can do it? Just break up with them?”

“Break up?” Mercedes snorted. “We’re not in a relationship. We’re barely in a friendship. The only thing keeping the three of us together is this weird, nostalgic idea that we’ve invested all these years into something that should keep going until one of us, like, dies or something.”

“That sure is optimistic,” Lucy grinned. She just shrugged when Mercedes shot her the _back off, bitch_ frown.

“How _are_ you going to stop being friends with them?” Katie pressed. She whipped out a Moleskin notepad from her purse.

“Jesus, Katie, you’re not reporting a story,” Mercedes complained.

“I need all the facts,” she shrugged. 

“And we need to be drinking things way stronger than vegetables,” Lucy muttered. She started pawing at her discarded jacket and triumphantly brandished her phone in the air. “It is four-fifty in the afternoon, which means it is acceptable for us to go to Camille’s bar and start taking shots.”

“It’s not _my_ bar,” Camille protested as she shrugged on her enormous sweater choice of the day.

“Yes, but it is Logan the bartender’s bar and he loves you and gives you and your bestest of friends drinks for free, so we’ve determined it is your bar,” Lucy said sweetly.

 

 

“So, look at the history, right?” Jo was carefully pronouncing her words at this point, determined not to be the first to slur. “Boys are stupid – even Kendall gets ridiculous sometimes with his eyebrows and his inability to resist making speeches about everything.” She paused and looked confused, and Mercedes could practically see her try to trace back to her original train of thought. She shook her head and steadfastly continued, “Yes. Sex. Boys like sex. But they don’t know how to have relationships.”

“As the ambassador for single women, I support this statement,” Camille interrupted, absently patting Jo on the shoulder. “Sex is good, and women have the empowering right to sleep with whoever they want, and they have the empowering right to invoke the “let’s just be friends” speech. That’s what you should do, Sadie. Sleep with Jett and Casper, and then boom! They’ll be running away from you in an instant.”

“You said “empowering” way too many times considering you drank half of the bar,” Mercedes mumbled. She squinted her eyes and titled her head a little to see what Katie was scribbling down in her notebook.

“I need to start carrying around a camera,” Katie laughed. “This is just quality shit that needs to be used for later blackmail purposes.”

“Why aren’t you drunk yet?” Lucy asked belligerently, swaying a little on her feet. “I’ve been keeping up with you, and you’ve just turned twenty-one, so you should be shitfaced right now because I have two more years of drinking experience than you.”

Katie gave her a pitying look. “Have you ever drunk with James and Carlos before? The one piece of wisdom they’ve imparted to me is how to hold my liquor.”

“Why aren’t we talking about me and my problem?” Mercedes screeched, stumbling over from her chair until she stood in between Katie and Lucy.

“Because we already figured out how to fix it!” Jo shrieked back. Camille laughed and waved Logan away, who had been hovering, worryingly, next to the five girls, and had jerked forward at the loud register of Jo’s voice.

“Sex up the boys and then wait for the chips to fall into their places,” Lucy nodded seriously.

Mercedes bit her lip and looked thoughtful. She could do that. It _had_ been a while since the last time she’d had sex, and it wasn’t like the boys were hideous or anything. And she’d never been able to use the “friends” argument to break up with a boy before, so that’d be exciting.

“Okay!” she shouted enthusiastically. She leaned forward to grab the last remaining shot from the bar, threw back her head, and downed it. “That was for luck” she let her friends know.      

 

 

**THE SOLUTION, DAY 1: SEXING UP JETT, a brief interlude**

 

“Is this why you’ve been extra bitchy to me lately?” Jett asked, smirking. “Cuz you wanted to get into my pants? See the good stuff that’s reserved for the ladies?”

Mercedes breathed in through her nose, briefly closing her eyes, to keep from lunging and punching him on the nose. Because violence isn’t sexy, she reminded herself, and she was supposed to be seducing the son of a bitch.

“Fine. You don’t want sex?” she asked in a bored tone.

“Are you kidding? I’m a guy. You’re an attractive lady. Where do you want to do it? My place? Yours? Or right in this booth?” he leered.

“If you have sex there, I will make sure you clean the café’s bathrooms for a month,” Dak said airily as he passed by. Interestingly, Jett turned bright red and scrambled out of his seat.

“Let’s go to my place,” Mercedes said. “It’s disconcerting that you have more candles and pillows in your room than I have. They’ll ruin the mood.”

 

 

“You look debauched,” Mercedes said smugly, looking over her shoulder at Jett, who was panting and covered in sweat.

“Don’t be a smug bitch,” Jett whined, dragging a hand over his face and through his hair.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, and tapped her fingers on his blankets. “Well, that was fun. See you later?”

 

 

**THE SOLUTION, DAY 4: SEXING UP CASPER**

 

Casper looked dumbfounded. “What?”

“Do you want to fuck?” Mercedes asked, more slowly this time, enunciating each word. She rolled her eyes when he blinked at her again, confused. “You know, screw. Bang. Hook up. Bump uglies.”

“I am aware of what “fuck” means,” he said drily.

“Then why are you being such a prude? It’s very unlike you.”

“Are you drunk right now?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s barely noon. And it’s a Wednesday.”

“I’m just trying to understand why all of a sudden you want to sleep with me,” he frowned. “You wouldn’t even kiss me for Spin the Bottle that one time.”

“Dur, we were thirteen then and your hair was longer than mine,” she said. “We’re both twenty-three now, and don’t you think a whole ten years is enough time for a change in judgment?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Casper said hesitantly.

“Then what is it?” Mercedes paused. She tried to rearrange her face into an emotion that could pass as vulnerable. “Is it because we’re friends? Think it’d be like fucking your sister?”

He adamantly shook his head. “No! God, Sadie, it’s not that. I like you, you know that. And can you stop saying the word “fuck” so much?” He fumbled for his coffee cup, trying desperately to think of a reason that would be convincing enough while not accidentally offending his best girl friend.

“Why? We’re in your living room. In the apartment that you live at by yourself. There’s no one to hear me swear, you asshole.”

“How am I an asshole?” Casper asked indignantly. “I’m trying to be the gentleman here. You should be giving me a prize, Jesus _Christ_ , for refusing to take advantage you right now.”

“Taking advantage?” Mercedes snorted. “I am _giving_ you the advantage, Casper.”

He gaped at her. He jumped when his phone began to vibrate and gave her a pained look. “I gotta take this. I – we – you need to leave. I’ll talk to you later when you’re sane, okay?” He yanked his phone out from his jeans pocket and scrambled off his couch, making sure to give her a wide berth as he practically hurtled into the kitchen.

Mercedes huffed and leaned down to grab her purse. She took out her phone and stabbed out a terse text to Lucy. _He’s being an idiot and said he’s too much of a gentleman to take advantage of me._

A second later her phone bleeped with _ohmigod that’s adorable can I forward that to the girls?_

 

 

“What is your problem, man?” Jett asked warily. He and Casper had been hanging out, eating pizza, and watching the game on TV, and for twenty minutes out of the thirty they’d been together, all Casper had done was stare broodingly down at his hands and just grunt whenever Jett asked him something.

Casper stuffed half a slice of pizza in his mouth and chewed furiously. Jett silently offered him a new beer. Casper accepted it with a slight nod, but didn’t do anything except play with the bottle’s wrapper. After another minute or so of silence, Casper cleared his throat. “Mercedes asked if I wanted to fuck.”   

Jett’s eyes bulged out. He grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, slamming the remote back down onto the coffee table. “Are you kidding me with this?”

Casper gave him a weird look. “This isn’t the first time we’ve talked about deep stuff and crap. I’m not asking you to go all Dr. Phil on me, man.”    

“Dude, that’s not it!” Jett protested, squeezing at the bridge of his nose. He let out a deep breath before looking up at his friend. “Are you going to?”

The brunette let out a tired sigh. “Would you?”

Jett attempted to look his most innocent. “Your exact situation’s never come up.”

“Do you think this is because she hasn’t had a boyfriend for the past year?”

“Girls’ got needs, just like us men do,” Jett shrugged. Casper was quiet for a beat. Jett looked at him and frowned.  “Why are you thinking so hard about this? She’s hot, man. And you haven’t exactly been Mr. Monogamy for a while now. Go for it.”

“It’s just…” By this point, Casper had completely ripped off the label on the beer and was now crumpling it up in his hand. “It’s Sadie, you know?”

Jett narrowed his eyes. “No, obviously, I don’t know. Do you – do you like her or something?”

Casper let out a small laugh. “Pfft, no. That was in middle school, remember? It’d be just sad if I was still in love with my seventh grade wife, right?”

Jett laughed too; how else could he response to that? “Do whatever feels right, Cass.” He reached over and popped a banana pepper in his mouth. “And now we’re done with this conversation, because, we are not girls and there is a very interesting soccer game on that we are missing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Casper nodded, bringing the bottle of beer up to his mouth. He took a long swallow, trying to sort out his thoughts. On the one hand, he’d get sex, after having had no sex for five months. On the other hand, he’d be having sex with Mercedes, one of the few female friends he had and the girl he’d once been “married” to for thirty-six hours when they were in middle school.

“I gotta go,” he said after about ten minutes of not paying attention to anything happening on the TV screen. Jett nodded absently at him, so he grabbed his wallet and keys from the floor, bopped Jett on his shoulder, and let himself out of Jett’s apartment. He already had his phone out and dialing Mercedes by the time he’d reached his car.

The moment the door closed behind Casper, Jett ran to his bedroom and yanked open the dresser drawer next to the bed. _There is no way that Jett Stetson sleeps with less people than Mercedes Griffin_ , he fumed as he pulled out the five leather-bound address books he had. They were all jam packed with the names of the many girls he’d either met, dated, or slept with since he had moved to Los Angeles. He began flipping through them methodically, one by one, phone at the ready. 

 

 

“Are you going to apologize to me?” Mercedes asked sullenly. She’d reluctantly left the girls and came to Casper’s apartment after listening to the voice message he’d left on her phone.

“Oh, Sadie, lighten up,” Casper grinned and then tugged her through his doorway. She suddenly found herself with her back against the door, with Casper crowding in front of her.

“What’s happening?” she asked, her mouth suddenly gone dry. This was new: she’d never had him looking at her so intently before.

His smile got even bigger. “Well, first I’m going to kiss you.” He ducked his head down and pressed his open mouth against her throat, right below her pulse point. Then, in the midst of her silently telling her pulse to man up and stop racing, he titled her chin up and pressed his lips against hers. At first, it was the barest of kisses, just slightly chapped lips making contact with lip-glossed ones. And then he promptly licked his way into her mouth; her eyes rolled back and she let out this little moan, one hand shooting up to grab at his forearm.

“I’m the one who said we should have sex,” Mercedes tried to sound snarky, but the slight wobble in her voice gave away how turned on she was. “I think that negates the need for seduction, Cass.”

He ignored her and threaded a hand through her hair until he was massaging the back of her neck, and nipped his way over to her ear. “And then I’m going to take you to bed.”

Those words really shouldn’t have been as sexy as they sounded, but – oh, _whatever_ , he was tracing patterns at her hip, and his tongue was in her mouth, and at this exact moment, the only thing on her mind was that she needed to get his ridiculously skinny jeans off. 

 

 

**UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES**

 

Mercedes poked at her pillow, and frowned when she found pillow to be harder than usual. She cracked her eyes open, confused, and found herself staring at a man’s nipple. Casper’s nipple, to be specific.

So that happened. Two, no, three times; she should track down whoever had been sexing him up before her and give that person a commendation medal. 

Did Casper’s pheromones have some sort of addictive side effect to them? Because sleeping with Jett had been great, yeah – apparently, that _Kama Sutra for Dummies_ gag gift she’d given him last year didn’t go to waste – but she hadn’t wanted to stick around for the night, let alone sleep over, or, um, want to run her hand down his back and tug him closer so they could partake in some morning sex. Thankfully, her phone rang at her, keeping her brain from wandering into some dangerous, definitely-not-part-of-the-plan territory.

Oh, great. It was her father.

She ungracefully slid out from under the covers, threw on one of the many sweatshirts Casper had the annoying habit of strewing on the floor, and sat down cross-legged at the end of the bed before bringing her phone up to her ear and whispering, “Hello?”

“Mercedes, if you can just hold on, I’ll transfer Mr. Griffin onto your line,” her father’s secretary of the month said briskly. Mercedes rolled her eyes, because this was typical – why would the great Arthur Griffin be in charge of making a personal phone call when he could get one of his many assistants and secretaries to do a task so mundane?

“Good, you’re up,” he noted, perhaps a little approvingly. “One of the many important aspects of Vice President of Griffin Industries is the public image. I know you’ve been exposed to paparazzi and interviews and magazine coverage since your first “what is she wearing” disaster on your thirteenth birthday—”

“Daddy, can you please just get to the point?” Mercedes asked, rubbing at her temples. “It’s seven-thirty in the morning and I’m not having the best day.”

“Very well, then.” She could practically see her dad standing by his giant floor to ceiling windows, posture ramrod straight, watching over the regular minions go about their day. “You’re aware of the industry party next weekend?”

“Yes, I’ve had the date programmed into my phone for months,” she sighed. She froze when she heard Casper give a grunt from deep within his nest of pillows, and got up from her seated position from the floor to tiptoe out to the living room. “What about it?”

“You need a date. Since your regular batch of boyfriends aren’t quite industry ready, I’ve done you the favor of finding you a suitable one. I’ve given Kelly your measurements, so you’ll find a dress in your room by tonight. I’ll see you on Friday.” He hung up the phone as soon as he finished relaying the message.

“Find me a suitable date, my ass,” Mercedes muttered, angrily swiping at the screen of her phone to turn it off. She startled when she felt a hand fall on her shoulder.

“You okay?” Casper asked softly, his brow furrowed. She gave him a tense, reassuring smile before tossing her hair over one shoulder and hopping down from the stool she’d been sitting on.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, more firmly this time.

She made a tinkling little laughing sound. “Oh, you know, it’s just my dad making sure I knew what I was wearing for his big party this weekend. Nothing life-changing. How do you feel about egg white frittatas?”

Casper narrowed his eyes and hummed. When she continued to wear her industry smile and refuse to blink, he briefly closed his eyes, restraining himself from calling Arthur Griffin a royal douche. “Frittatas sound great, Sadie.”

 

 

The two of them walked side by side, neither wanting to be the first to talk, and their usual companionable silence stretched out into an uncomfortable, tense one. Fortunately, Jett was already in their usual booth, surrounded by three emptied coffee cups, which gave the both of them a lifeline to grab onto.

“I’m, uh, gonna go wash my hands,” Casper said at the same time Mercedes blurted, “You should get Dak’s attention and I’ll go over and sit next to Jett.” They both laughed nervously and headed in the opposite directions. She groaned and told herself sternly, _pull yourself together. It’s just_ Casper.

Mercedes plopped down into the vacant seat across from Jett, frowning at the disheveled boy who had taken over her narcissistic friend. She had never seen Jett so anxious or so unpolished; his usual uniform of two polo shirts, their collars deliberately unpopped, and carefully styled hair was missing. He was in sweats. God, the last time she had seen him in a pair of sweatpants was in coed gym.

"You look awful,” she said bluntly.

“Thank you, Sadie. I don’t know how my ego would survive without you,” he said sarcastically.

“No, but seriously, what’s wrong?”

Jett nervously rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. He quickly looked over at Dak, who was manning the counter, looking bored, and then back at Mercedes. He brought his hands up and began fiddling with the packets of sugar strewn across the top of the table. She laughed and covered his hands with hers, stilling them and forcing him to look at her.

“Okay, so I have a confession. Don’t take it the wrong way – you’re hot, don’t worry, but,” and there was some more fiddling, before he said so quietly she had to lean forward to hear him properly, “I like Dak.”

“What?” she shrieked. She ducked to avoid the balled up napkin he threw in her direction. “If you tell me I turned you gay, I swear to god—”

“It’s not like that,” Jett said, annoyed. “I mean _look_ at me. I can’t think straight long enough to put styling mousse in my hair, and if I can’t commit one hundred percent while getting ready, I don’t _do_ it. I don’t know what to do!” he wailed and dropped his head into his hands. He snuffled for a moment before jerking his head up and glaring at her. “What are you thinking? I can practically hear your brain judging me.”

“I’m not judging you, sweetie,” she said, reaching out and tentatively patting his hand which was still folded underneath his chin, so she actually ended up poking his chin instead. “At the very least, thank god you chose one of the greatest looking guys in town to crush on.”

“Right?” Jett grinned. “I like his hair.” He nodded seriously when she let out a surprised gasp. “Yeah, and usually I actively hate other guys’ hair. That was the big clue.”

“Wow,” she whistled. “Are you planning on doing anything? Making the first move, maybe?”

“Please,” he huffed. “Even when I was interested in girls, I waited them to come to me. I already put all this work into my appearance; it’s their duty to come up to me and start flirting. Jett Stetson never makes the first move.”

“Will Jett Stetson actually be Jett Stetson and maybe take a shower before the next time he tries to eye-sex Dak? I like this café, I don’t want to have to deal with finding a new one because the owner kicks you out again,” she said matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened when she saw Casper making his way over to the two of them. “Okay, Jett, I do sympathize with you and what you’re going through, but I need to get you up to date on something, so you won’t be a jackass and blurt something; I slept with Casper last night and now there might be the change that I find him a little attractive,” Mercedes said quickly, kicking him in the shin. He yelped in pain.

“You need therapy,” he scowled, rubbing at his ankle.

“I’m not the one with the crisis of sexual identity,” she shot back just as Casper sat down next to Jett. He gave her a strange look.   

“What did I miss, children?”

“Oh, we were just talking about Mercedes’ big party on Friday and how you should be her plus one,” Jett answered quickly, shooting her a look that could only be described as “smug.” She mouthed _bitch_ at him before reluctantly nodding in agreement.

“Me?” Casper asked. “Oh, did you do the whole drawing straws thing? Did I come up short?”

“Nah, it’s just that Jett needs to work on his flirting-with-boys skill and he’ll be spending that night creepily staring at Dak,” Mercedes said cheerfully.

“Huh,” Casper shrugged. He poured himself a cup of coffee and asked, “Who wants to split a frittata with me? I want some of those carrot pancakes.”

Jett looked bemused. “That’s it? No ragging on the fact that Sadie just told you I like boys? No making pointed statements about me wearing sweatpants?”

“Do you do everything just to get a reaction?” Casper asked. “Also, I kind of figured that you had something going on with Dak after I saw you two making out last week.”

“What?” Jett sputtered the same time Mercedes yelped, “That was pretty pertinent information you left out, Mr. Stetson!”

 

 

**THE ENDING, appropriately taking place at a lavish party**

 

“Mercedes,” Griffin said, bemused and a little tense. “You seem to have brought a friend.”

“This is Casper, you’ve met him before, he’s the boy I spent the night with on prom night,” she said blandly. She didn’t have to look over at Casper to hear him stifle a laugh. 

Griffin raised an eyebrow and turned to the overly polished man-boy standing next to him, who looked like a carbon copy of the dozens of other high society men he’d attempted to persuade Mercedes into dating. “Didn’t I tell you about her sense of humor? It’s refreshing to meet a college graduate who isn’t cynical, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course, sir,” Ken doll number thirty-something replied on cue. He actually bowed before introducing himself: “I’m Martin Hansen, current Creative Director at Veridian Dynamics. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“God, Dad, you have actually surpassed my expectations,” Mercedes mused. “I hadn’t thought it’d be possible to find a duller date than that horticulture designer, but congratulations, you have.” She pivoted to face Martin and said sincerely, “It was not at all a pleasure to meet you, and I’m sure my father will make sure you’re wholly compensated for failing to make me want to rip off my clothes and dry hump you in front of everyone. Casper and I are going to go to the bar now and enjoy the rest of the party.” She beamed and made a beeline straight to the bartender. 

“Vodka and sprite, please,” she ordered. She downed the drink in one go, hiccupped, and asked for a mojito and a double whiskey on the rocks. “I needed a “good job” drink, Cass, don’t start with the lecture. Now that I’ve got that out of the way, we’re going to move over to that tabletop over there and enjoy the startling adequate choice of music at tonight’s shindig, and talk about anything other than business.”

He nodded and accepted the proffered glass of whiskey. He took an appreciative sip and sucked on an ice chip, pondering how to lead in with the question that’d been looming in his mind ever since Mercedes had reamed Martin, the poor bastard. Fuck it, he didn’t do casual as well as people might think: “So later, you want to go on a real date?” Her eyes flew open and she punched his arm. “Hey! What was that for?” He pouted and rubbed at his shoulder.

“You, you can’t just do this kind of thing!” Mercedes cried. “How can you be so nice to me? I’ve ignored all your phone calls and avoided you for the past two days. I’m horrible and self-involved and–”

She stumbled back a little bit as Casper was suddenly standing right in front of her, his hands gripping her shoulders. “And a little bit dumb, yeah,” he said softly. “Sadie, I love you.”

“You’re a dick,” she said, her voice wobbly, and furiously wiped at her eyes.

“I’m serious.” He nudged at her chin until she was looking up at him.

“Well, you chose the most clichéd venue to declare your feelings,” she said. “You just had to be wearing a tuxedo, didn’t you?” 

“I spent the two days you disappeared from my life coaching Jett how to get the nerve to ask Dak out. It took me a really long time, but I’m finally going to listen to that advice. Listen up, Mercedes Griffin, because I’m stepping up. I’ve been in love with you since we were ten years old, and I haven’t really stopped since. I don’t really care that you’re the heiress to millions, but that’s probably a good thing, because the only thing I’m interested in doing as a career is singing and playing guitar. One of these days, I’m going to tell your father to shove it because he’s doesn’t appreciate what a great girl you are. And I’m going to show you every day that we’re together just how great and how out of my league you are. How’s that sound?” he smiled. And then held his breath, which he let out in a relieved puff when she smiled back at him instead of rearing back and running away as he’d half-expected her to.

Thankfully, the four inch heels Mercedes had chosen to wear tonight bumped her height enough so that she was nearly standing eye to eye with Casper, which meant that she only had to sway forward a teeny bit to kiss him. “That sounds really nice,” she murmured against his mouth.

“I just wish that we were somewhere more private,” he said ruefully once they pulled away. “Instead of kissing you in full view of your father.”

“Then let’s get out of here. I saw Kelly come in about six minutes ago; she can arrange meetings on my behalf. Besides, you wearing your hair up in a ponytail has been driving me crazy. Let’s get naked,” she teased.

Casper rolled his eyes but dropped a kiss on her nose anyway. “I’m not putting out until you buy me dinner.”

 

 

Two and a half months later, Mercedes opened up a big manila envelope to find six glossy magazines bound together with a rubber band, and burst out laughing after reading the bright orange Post-It affixed to the topmost one. _Sadie – I TOLD you that you and Casper were meant to be! Also, Katie wants to tell you that she’s already planning for your guys’ wedding, and she’s gone through three Moleskin notebooks filled with ideas. – Jo_


End file.
